*
The group ate a late lunch at the resort, and then Mrs. Dawson went to lie down in her room. Mr. Dawson went with her, and Paige and Kennedy decided that after the girls’ naps, they would take their kids to the beach. Marco and the brothers-in-law headed to the golf course. Flynn had been scheduled to play with them, but he dropped out of the group.
“Belle doesn’t play,” he said as they were leaving the restaurant. “We’ll find something else to do.”
“You can play if you want,” Belle said. “I don’t mind.”
He gave her a look that made her insides flutter, and took her hand. “I’d rather be with you.”
The sentence felt like the final proof that his feelings for her were real, not just an act for the family’s sake. Flynn had no reason to stay back with her if he didn’t want to. Even if Belle still had had designs on Marco, he would be off golfing for the afternoon, well out of her clutches.
Belle and Flynn ended up going to the beach with Paige, Kennedy, and their kids. Flynn suggested the pool, but Belle didn’t want him to miss time with his sisters and their children. This was a reunion, after all. Besides, she liked watching Flynn play with his nephews and nieces. They clearly loved him, and when they weren’t begging him to play in the waves with them, they were bringing him shells or bits of broken sand dollars that had washed ashore.
It was so sweet. So blissfully domestic. She tried to memorize how it all felt. The turquoise blue of the sea, the bleached sand, and the breeze fluttering through palm fronds.
And him. Lean muscle and a smile that made him look mischievous and charming at the same time.
When it was nearly time to leave, Noah and Gavin plopped onto the sand between Belle and Flynn.
“Hey, Uncle Flynn,” Gavin said, “do the quarter trick.”
Flynn shot Belle a furtive glance, then made shooing motions at the boys. “I don’t know any tricks. Go build a sandcastle.”
“Yes, you do,” Gavin insisted. “The one where you can always tell whether the quarter is heads or tails.”
Belle lowered her sunglasses so she could peer over them at Flynn. “Please do show us. Sounds fascinating.”
Flynn kept shooing the boys away. “Look! Dolphins near the shore. Go try to catch one.”
Kennedy noticed Flynn waving her sons away, and she came over to fetch them. “Come on boys, play somewhere else.” As she took their hands, she turned to Flynn. “Sorry they’re bothering you.” To her children she said, “Remember, you’re supposed to be on your best behavior, or you’ll scare off Flynn and Belle from ever having children.”
“We weren’t bothering them,” Gavin insisted as they trudged off. “I just wanted Uncle Flynn to do the quarter trick. He gets it right every single time.” He turned to his brother and added, “Because he’s magic.”
“He’s not magic,” Kennedy said, leading the boys away. “He can just feel the difference between heads and tails against his skin.”
Flynn shifted on his towel, looking away from Belle.
Belle took off her sunglasses and tapped them against her knee. “Really? You can feel the difference?”
“I prefer the explanation that I’m magic.”
“You tricked me.” She wasn’t as upset as she should have been. She couldn’t muster anger at the result of the coin toss. Her irritation was more at herself for not knowing that it was possible to feel the difference between heads and tails.
He leaned back on his elbows. “I ensured the best results possible for everyone involved.” He tilted his face toward the sky, considering, then returned his gaze to her. “I admit it was an underhanded way to steal a kiss. If you want remuneration, I’ll happily return it.”
“You will?”
She didn’t expect him to kiss her right there on the beach. But he leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. He smelled of coconut sunscreen, and when his hand touched her arm, bits of sand fell across her skin.
“Hey,” Paige called with mock offense, “kids are present.”
“Well,” Kennedy added, “My boys must not have scared them away from having children after all.”
“They need more time exposed to ours,” Paige agreed.
Flynn moved away from Belle with a grin. “We’d better stop, or we’ll be invaded by small people.”
“I think they’re darling,” Belle said.
“That’s because you’ve never had to herd them through a grocery store.”
Not far away, Raleigh dumped a pail of water into a sandcastle moat, then jumped into the puddle with enthusiastic abandon. Her ponytail had curled itself into a question mark, and sand smudged her legs, arms and cheeks.
“Admit it,” Belle said. “You adore them.”
“You’re right.” He put his hand over hers.
Neither of them said anything for a few moments. They watched Raleigh and Zoe destroy their sandcastle and then Raleigh set about reconstructing it with the same enthusiasm. Gavin and Noah played tag with the ocean. They ran down the receding shoreline, then ran back up, trying to outrace the waves.
Flynn laced his fingers with hers. “When I joined my dad’s firm, I told myself that I wanted to be successful so I could be the kind of dad my father was to me. I wanted to give my kids all of the experiences and things I had.”
“That’s good,” she said.
“It would be if I had any kids. Somewhere along the line, success became less about providing for a family and more about winning the game. If you have a family, you can’t work long hours all of the time or jet across the nation on a moment’s notice.”
“I suppose not.”
He watched her silently for a moment. “Do you want children someday?”
The breath in her lungs momentarily hitched. “Yes, although I wouldn’t want them to have the same experiences I had.” She was still doing her best to forgive and forget much of her childhood.
“I suppose not.” He understood her meaning.
“Kids don’t need rich parents,” she said. “They need a mom and a dad who put them first.” She laughed at herself. “I sound very sage, don’t I? But I’ve been caught up in my career too. Having a family has been on the back burner for a long time.”
“Mine has been too,” he said. “The back burner’s not an especially good place for children to live.”
“I won’t tell CPS if you don’t.”
They didn’t bring up the subject of children again, but that night as Belle lay in bed, reviewing the day in all of its hues of happiness, the children she saw romping around the beach weren’t Flynn’s nephews and nieces. She saw a boy with Flynn’s dimples and mischievous grin. She saw a girl with her pale blonde hair and blue eyes. Such a silly daydream, so premature, yet dreaming it made her happy anyway.
Chapter 22
Belle woke up early on Friday, clearly suffering from Christmas-morning syndrome. This was her last full day with Flynn. She didn’t want to sleep any of it away.
He wouldn’t be by to pick her up until eight, but she was ready by seven and went down to the first-floor shops to browse souvenirs. She figured she ought to get her mother something. That was the daughterly thing to do, and being at this reunion had made her want to be a better daughter.
While buying a bracelet for her mother, she saw an iguana stuffed animal and decided to buy it for Flynn. She’d show up at his door with one before he could show up at hers. At quarter ‘til, she went to his room, iguana in hand. It was much cuter than the real ones—soft brown plush, glass eyes, and a mouth that turned up.
When she got close to Flynn’s room, she heard voices coming from inside.
Daisy’s voice was close to the door. “I need more time. I’ve hardly had a chance to speak to Marco.”
Belle paused. Should she knock or leave? How private was this conversation?
“I dropped out of golf so you could take my place,” Flynn said. “Why didn’t you talk to him then?”
Belle froze. She’d thought Flynn d
ropped out of the game because he wanted to be with her. He’d done it for Daisy?
“I tried,” she said. “But Marco made sure we were never alone. He keeps pushing me away. It’s Belle, isn’t it? Is he seeing her?”
Why would Daisy ask Flynn that? Didn’t she think he was seeing Belle?
“No, it’s not Belle,” Flynn said, with a wry tone. “I’ve done everything humanly possible and then some to keep her away from Marco. Trust me, she’s not a factor.”
A factor? Flynn was talking about her as if she were part of an equation. No, worse—as if she were an assignment.
Daisy’s words from their phone call came back to Belle: I know you’re after Marco.
She hadn’t been guessing. She’d known all along that Flynn and Belle weren’t really dating. Daisy had known from the moment she crashed the reunion, joined dinner, and gave Belle an unwelcome glare. She’d known because Flynn had told her.
Belle took a step backward, as though that could keep her from the realization engulfing her. No such luck. The crushing wave came anyway. Flynn had known that Daisy was coming to Cancun. That’s why he’d wanted Belle to hole up in her room, away from Marco. Flynn had been helping Daisy all along.
The next realization was worse, and just as painful. He didn’t have feelings for Belle. Everything he’d said and done had been part of a calculated strategy. When he couldn’t keep her away from Marco by using bribes or threats, he set out to eliminate her in another way—by making her fall for him. And she’d been pitifully easy to sway. His charm, his smiles, his kisses—he’d only been keeping her out of Daisy’s way.
Tomorrow Flynn would see her off with promises and plans to visit. He might even string her along for a while if Daisy needed more time to wheedle her way back into Marco’s heart. And then Flynn would completely dump her.
Daisy said something else; Belle couldn’t tell what because her ears were ringing and her heart was pounding against her chest. She turned and hurried down the hallway back toward the elevator, nearly running. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get away fast enough.
The elevator door took too long to open, and she smacked the button a second time. Only then did she realize that she was still holding the iguana. Strangling it, really. No matter. She’d shove it in the garbage can in her room. The elevator finally opened. She stepped inside and shut her eyes as it whirred down to her floor.
She was not going to cry about this. Not when she knew Flynn was about to come to her door. She wouldn’t let him know how much he’d hurt her. She needed to calmly make arrangements to leave before he got there. En route to her room, she called the airline and booked an earlier flight back to New York. She would have two layovers, but she could be on a plane in three hours.
As soon as she got to her room, she called the front desk for a shuttle to the airport, then pulled her suitcase out of the closet and began dumping things inside. Clothes and toiletries, all of it a jumble. She didn’t care.
At eight, Flynn knocked on her door. She considered not answering, but he’d call her phone if she didn’t, and this was probably one of those times when it was best to yell at a man face to face anyway.
Gritting her teeth, she swung the door open.
When he saw her expression, his eyes widened in alarm. “What’s wrong?”
She should have thought of something cutting to say, something cavalier. She’d had enough time to mull it over. But no, she could hardly think at all. “You don’t have to play this game anymore,” she said. “You’ve won. But then, you always win, don’t you? Even if you have to rig the game.”
He looked behind him as though something back there might explain her behavior, then returned his attention to her. “Did I miss something?”
“Oh, I doubt you ever miss anything.” She wasn’t playing his games anymore. “I’ve got a flight to catch. Goodbye.” She moved to shut the door.
He held out his hand, stopping the door’s progress. “What are you talking about?”
She couldn’t shut the door while he was holding it. Fine. If he wanted to stay here and get chewed out, she’d oblige. She left the door and stormed over to her suitcase. Her mother’s souvenir bracelet sat on the dresser. She tossed it inside. “You’re a fraud. Every time you kissed me, you were just keeping Marco safe for Daisy. The whole time, you were using me.”
He walked farther into the room, a crisp defensiveness edging into his voice. “And what made you suddenly decide this?”
She flung open a dresser drawer, grabbed a pile of shorts, and dropped them into the suitcase. “I heard you say as much to Daisy.” She paused to look at him, checking his expression. “In your room a few minutes ago. I came to your door.”
A bit of color drained from his face, and his eyes looked pained. That, at least, was some consolation—he didn’t like being caught.
He lifted a hand, as though to hold back her accusation. “I never said that.”
“You might as well have. You said you did everything humanly possible ‘and then some’ to keep me away from Marco. I assume that kissing me falls into one of those categories.”
Flynn held up both hands, palms out. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
As if there were a lot of different ways to interpret his words. Belle slammed the dresser drawer shut. She was all packed now. “You knew Daisy was coming. That’s why you wanted me to stay away from Marco until Saturday. Not because you were worried about your brother’s vulnerable state. Not because you were afraid I’d do something to let your parents know about the divorce. You were giving Daisy time to win Marco back.”
“It was for a lot of reasons,” Flynn said.
He wasn’t denying the accusation. It was as good as admitting he’d used her. Belle folded her suitcase shut. “Daisy knew we weren’t dating, didn’t she? Did you tell her about the night we met? How I thought I was kissing Marco?”
He chewed his words for a moment, then said, “I told her I met you at the resort. I asked about you because I was trying to figure you out.” He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “Some other details might have come out.”
In other words, yes, he’d told her that Belle had thought he was Marco and had thrown herself at him. She must have looked contemptible to Daisy, completely pitiful. Belle zipped up her suitcase. “I feel so stupid. I want to yell at you for lying to me, but I should have known better all along.” She straightened and grabbed the handle. “The first thing I learned about you was that you had no problem lying to me.”
He winced. “Belle, it’s not like that.”
Time to go. She grabbed her purse from the top of the dresser.
He took hold of her arm, stopping her. “Let me explain first.”
“Why? I can’t believe anything you say.”
He took a sharp inward breath, and his hand dropped from her arm. His features went hard. “No, I suppose you won’t believe me. I was doomed as soon as you decided I was on Daisy’s side.”
That wasn’t fair. “She has nothing to do with this.”
Belle walked past him and out the door. If her hand was shaking on the luggage, it wasn’t enough to be noticeable. That was the important thing. She had to hold herself together until she could cry in private.
Chapter 23
Flynn sat on the bed, numbly staring at the door, as though, if he stared at it long enough, Belle would come back. That wasn’t going to happen. She was gone.
Not just gone, but hated-him gone. Even if he went after her, she wouldn’t listen to anything he had to say. There was no way to fix this. He’d done everything wrong from the start. But how could he have known back when he first met Belle that he’d end up falling for her?
He imagined what their meeting in the hotel lobby would have been like if he’d admitted up front that he was Flynn, not Marco. That’s what he should have done, and what he would have done if he hadn’t been trying to protect his brother.
Belle would have blushed at her mistake and excused herself
. If Flynn saw her later during the week, she would have been on Marco’s arm, the stars in her eyes firmly in place.
Flynn re-imagined the scene in different ways, trying to come up with a scenario where he’d been honest and still wound up with Belle. But it always ended up the same: Belle went with Marco.
Fitting, he supposed, because now that she despised him, she would end up with Marco. She had his phone number and the little squabble they’d had at dinner wouldn’t keep her away from him. She would most likely wait until after the reunion, but then she would call him. And Marco hadn’t shown much interest in Daisy, which meant he’d probably jump at the chance of getting together with Belle.
So that’s how their story was destined to end—like a Greek tragedy where the hero can’t change the outcome no matter what he tries.
Well, Belle deserved to be happy. If she wanted Marco, then Flynn wouldn’t stand in their way anymore. He shouldn’t have tried to stand in their way to begin with. He took out his phone and called his brother.
Chapter 24
Belle was walking to the airport’s security checkpoint when she heard someone calling her name. She turned to find Flynn striding across the terminal toward her. Her heart lifted in an unexpected surge of relief. It shouldn’t have; she’d ended their relationship. But seeing him made her ridiculously happy anyway. He’d come after her. That meant he cared after all.
And then the next moment, she realized it wasn’t Flynn. It was Marco. His hair was longer, lighter.
Her heart slid back down into her chest, settling into thick misery again. Why was Marco here?
“Belle,” he called again. “Wait up.” He jogged the last few steps then stood staring at her breathlessly, an uncertain smile on his lips. “I thought we should talk. About, well… Flynn told me the truth about, um, you.” Marco didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, as if she was making him nervous. She hadn’t thought that possible.
Of course, “the truth” might mean many things coming from Flynn. “What exactly did he tell you?”
How I Met Your Brother (Power of the Matchmaker) Page 19